Story Circle
by Mertiya
Summary: A collection of sometimes loosely-related Magic: the Gathering ficlets. Each chapter is relatively standalone, in the style of a book of short stories.
1. Burden of Guilt

The flames are licking higher and higher. In a moment, the lab itself will be going up. Maree presses her lens up to her eye and thinks she ought to be feeling something about the fact that everything she's worked for over the past year is going up in fire, but she doesn't seem to care. There's nothing inside her but a numb horror, because Mizzix was working in there.

Maree tries to think what her life will be like without Mizzix. There won't be cups of coffee that never tasted the same because someone had been tinkering with the coffee pot. There won't be arms around her waist at strange hours of the morning, and a happy voice whispering equations in her ear. There won't be waking up with a warm, exhausted bundle in her arms. There won't be anything, in fact, that holds the fabric of her life together. And the only thing she can do is push her optical lens up her nose and stare at the bright flames.

Sudden, shrill sobs reach her ears, and she looks over and doesn't understand what she's seeing. "No!" screams the short goblin, struggling against an Azorius arrester. "You have to let me go back in there, I have to get Maree's notes, I have to–"

"Mizzix!" Maree feels her stomach lurch, and she's running across the wet cobblestones and throwing herself at the goblin. "I thought you were dead!"

The goblin turns to her, drooping and completely unprepared as Maree throws herself into her arms. Both of them go down onto the cobblestones, which is going to hurt Maree's knees later, but she doesn't give a fuck.

"It's all my fault!" Mizzix moans. "Oh, Maree, I'm sorry, I didn't cut off the energy to the manalines, I'm such an idiot!"

"I don't care," whispers Maree, and her face is wet, which is odd, because it's not raining. "I remember most of what I did, I can reproduce it, I don't care."

"You don't–I thought you were going to kill me yourself." Ah, that's more like the normal Mizzix. Maree dips and kisses her.

"We can do that later," she says. Her heart-rate is slowly returning to normal. "You can just get me some more funding, can't you?"

Mizzix blinks at her. "Wow, you were really worried."

"Yes, I was! You idiot! Don't do things like that!"

One long-fingered hand reaches up and tweaks her nose. "I didn't know you cared that much."

Neither had Maree. "Well, now you do," she says.


	2. Instill Infection

It's rare that Jace is called to a disaster for reasons other than his status as Living Guildpact, but this is bad. An entire Simic laboratory has collapsed, and Lavinia needs him to help them search for survivors, a job which Jace is only too willing to perform.

He starts feeling uneasy when he hears some of the bystanders making noises about "Izzet delegation" and "accidental discharges" but it's not until he sees the gauntlet on the ground that he really panics. He knows he can't stop scanning the wreckage for people, but it's hard to focus, hard to concentrate, hard to do anything as minute after minute ticks past and there's no sign of Ral.

It takes a while, but they start bringing people out–an elf, a vedalken, a goblin. All of them are covered in strange growths, and Jace, dread still building, slides inside the mind of the nearest one and grabs the details of the Simic experiment that was going on in here. A particularly nasty flesh-eating fungus that can spread by touch. He instructs the rescuers to use gloves, sends Lavinia with a runner to fetch more members of the Combine, who may be able to deal with this.

It's a slow business, but they continue the evacuation. It must be hours later that Jace catches sight of familiar stripes of blue and red. Ral's being carried on a stretcher by two wojeks, and Jace can't keep his focus, it dissolves into nothingness as he runs over. _Please be alive, please be alive, please–_

Ral groans and moves as he rushes over. There's blood caked on his forehead, but he's moving, he's not dead. Jace bends toward him–and Ral's eyes snap open and he cringes backward. "Don't touch me, don't _fucking_ touch me," he snarls, and Jace stops, hand upraised, breath catching in his throat at the sight of the grey tinge in Ral's cheeks and the little feathery green growths lining the insides of his wrists. Ral collapses backward onto the stretcher. "Don't touch me," he whispers again.


	3. Waking Nightmare

It's been some time since Ral was wakened in the middle of the night by his bedmate. And usually it's just a kick or a push or a restless movement, but not tonight. Tonight, Jace is screaming in his ear, a full-on wail that doesn't seem to end or die or stop.

"Jace! _Jace_!" Ral is kicked into horrified wakefulness, because that sound–that sound is _agonizing_. His hands are on Jace's shoulders and he's shaking him, partly to get him to wake up, partly just to get him to fucking stop. Jace sucks in a breath, cries out again, and wakes, his eyes snapping open.

"Don't," he murmurs breathlessly, and then he curls on his side, breath coming so fast that Ral doesn't know how he's getting any oxygen in the middle of that. Does Jace even know where he is? Ral's not sure. He doesn't really have a good way of dealing with this, so he tries something that's worked before–he puts a gentle hand on Jace's back.

It's a mistake. Jace screams again, and the breathing turns into short, sharp sobs. Ral pulls back immediately and turns to let the swelling lightning crack from his hand to the lightning rod in the corner of the room because now he knows what Jace was dreaming about, and if he could ever get his hands on the man who did this–

No, no, no. His anger won't help Jace. He doesn't know if anything will, but he can't touch him, so he speaks instead. "Jace, you idiot, you woke me up." Nothing. No response, Jace's hands are still curled protectively over his eyes. Ral gentles his voice. "Look at me–just breathe, okay?"

Still nothing. No recognition, nothing but horrible, grating sobs. Ral wants to put his hands over his ears. "Jace–please stop. I can't–I can't fucking deal with you sounding like this."

Maybe it's the note of desperation in his voice, or maybe the soft crackle of the electricity running across his hair, but Jace goes still and slowly looks up.

"Ral?" he says in a small, confused voice.

"Yeah," Ral says with a sigh of relief. "It's me."


	4. Self-Inflicted Wound

When Jace wakes up, he's naked in his office and for a long moment he doesn't know where he is. He feels raw and wrung-out, muscles limp, and looking down at himself, he sees a twisting, feathery red burn along his side and up across his chest.

Right. Last night. He spent the night with Ral, and the lightning mage-there were complications. Jace winces, staggers to his feet, looks around, but the office is empty. It takes him a few minutes to get dressed, but he manages eventually, evades Lavinia, heads for Nivix because there's a new, raw ache in his chest to match the new, raw ache in his side.

Ral's in his lab, buried under what looks like three tons of various instruments. "Go away," he says, before Jace even takes a step inside.

"Ral–-about last night-–"

Dark eyes flash from across the room, look up briefly. "Beleren, get out."

Jace shuffles his feet. "But I enjoyed myself, and I thought maybe there was something–-"

There's a clang as one of the spanners hits the wall above his head. "What happened doesn't change _anything_!" Ral snaps. "Just leave me alone. Leave me–- _fuck off_."

Jace does, the raw ache turning into something closer to a roiling nausea.

* * *

Once he's satisfied that the Guildpact is gone, Ral groans and throws himself back to the floor. He should have known. He should have known he couldn't trust himself in a situation like that. He could have killed Jace.

Jace will forget. If it's only the one time, he'll move on. What happened doesn't change anything. It can't, because Ral's not safe. He's not safe and he'll hurt Jace and he–-

He's never been good enough. He's used to that. It's just one more piece of proof.


	5. Notorious Assassin

"Didn't you see what I did?"

"What?" Jace is tired. It's late out, too late for Kallist to be messing around the way he usually does. Jace just wants to get back to his little room in the Infinite Consortium and sleep.

"C'mon, Jace, pay attention to me," Kallist whines. "That was probably the best handstand I've ever done."

Kallist has too much energy, and he's too–he just doesn't seem to care. Jace feels a weird mix of disgust and envy, thinking about that, even though Kallist is his closest friend, even though–he sighs. "I'm not in the mood right now," he says levelly, and walks on.

An arm falls over his shoulders. "You're never in the mood for anything," Kallist says cheerfully. "You want to get ice cream?"

"I want to go to sleep."

"You want to get drunk?"

"You _killed_ him."

"Yep."

"Don't you even feel slightly bad about it?"

"Nope."

"I don't understand you," Jace sighs. "Look, I just don't like going out and celebrating after vomiting over the corpse of a man whose throat you slit."

Kallist goes still. "Do you think I'm a monster?" he asks, almost casually.

"What? No!"

"Then don't act like it." Jace stares after him as he walks off, wincing slightly. Kallist's feelings swirl in his head for a moment–harsh, raw anger, and a sudden wild hurt. Guilt swells inside him, but he can't find the words to placate it, and in the moment of indecision, his friend is gone.


	6. Hide or Seek

**A/N:** Innistrad, outcomes, two different possibilities

 **I. Hide**

"Go away."

"Ral-–"

"I said, GO AWAY."

Jace leans against the door. "Ral, please, just talk to me." This is the first time he's been back on Ravnica for weeks, and somehow he was expecting his friend to be happy to see him. He certainly didn't expect this response. "What's wrong?"

Ral stares at him. "You, the Living Guildpact, who decided to up and fucking vanish for months, just waltz back in here as if I'll be happy to see you. Really."

A twinge of guilt runs through Jace, but he tries to object. "Ral, it was important. The Multiverse–-"

"So important you couldn't be bothered telling me where you were going? I don't think so. Get out. Just–-leave me alone, I don't want to talk to you."

"Please-–"

"Leave. Me. ALONE." The door to the lab swings shut, and Jace is left standing outside with his stomach suddenly turning over inside him. Wonderful. Lavinia is going to wonder why he's been crying.

 **II. Seek**

Innistrad is cold and dark and dreary. Jace has been here for all of two days, and he already knows that he hates it. He hates the constant rain and wind and dark thunderclouds that loom overhead. He's carefully not thinking about reasons why those thunderclouds might make him feel oddly lonely. Oddly homesick. With a sigh, he pays the innkeeper and heads out again, turning up the collar of his dark leather coat against the chilly wind. Looking for a vampire on a plane that he hates. What a wonderful day.

The air reeks of ozone as he starts down the muddy road, and at first he thinks it's just the usual smell of Innistrad, carried to extreme. It's not until he feels the hot-cold pulse on the back of his neck that he recognizes that the eternities have opened, and he whirls round to see an angry lightning mage in a gaudy, oil-stained, slightly singed outfit, striding down the road behind him, where a moment before there was nothing.

Jace stares. "R-Ral?" he finally manages. "What in Krokt's name-what are you doing here?"

Ral stares back. "Mother of rains," he says. "I was _looking for you_ , what do you think I was doing?"

"Why?" Jace feels absurdly self-conscious in his stupid oversized greatcoat, and as if in mockery, a light rain starts up, plastering his hair to his head.

Ral is moving-nervous, maybe, or, more likely, that's just Ral. He can't stay still; Jace knows that. He's a perpetual motion machine, always swaying or rocking or rushing from one side of the room to the other in a swirl of red-and-blue, one hand fiddling with his hair, his gauntlet. "Well," Ral drawls. "I don't know, maybe because the Living Guildpact, the incarnation of all law and order on the plane of Ravnica, _mysteriously_ decided to vanish for nearly a month? Two of the maze-runners are missing, Jace, now is not a good time for you to be waltzing off to other planes."

Taking a deep breath, Jace finds himself stepping backwards in front of the whirlwind of intensity that is Ral Zarek. "The Multiverse-"

Ral matches him stride for stride, and Ral's strides are bigger than Jace's. In a moment, he's looming over Jace, who is frustratedly wishing he had just a few extra inches of height. Maybe he should start wearing high-heeled boots. "Fuck the multiverse," Ral says, sparks flickering rapidly down his gauntlet. Suddenly he's reaching for Jace with his naked hand, pulling him forward-and this, Jace wasn't expecting, and he certainly wasn't expecting the sudden feeling of lips, hot and angry against his, Ral's hand insistent on the back of his neck. Jace's eyes are shut and he can taste ozone and light. Suddenly the stormclouds aren't looming, aren't lonely, as he finds himself caught inside one, bruised and buffeted but so, so strangely safe, a storm that has been brewing since Lightning Bug halted in disarray.

"Oh," says Jace, weakly. "Yeah. You know what? Fuck the Multiverse."


	7. Dream Fighter

The wail woke Elspeth in the middle of the night. She had fallen asleep across the bed in only her tunic and socks, but she staggered upright immediately and tripped on the armor she had left scattered across the floor. Valuable seconds trickled by as she levered herself back up and snatched for the sword that lay in its sheath against the wall. Moments later, still half-dressed, she was out the door and running down the corridor, sword in hand.

The wail continued, neverending, ceaseless, encouraging her that the originator was at least still capable of screaming. The heavy wooden door stood in her path, and, full of sleep and adrenaline, she didn't pause to open it.

A single kick sent it flying inwards with a dull boom, and then she was inside the room, sword out, facing down the shadows with a grim, determined face. The wailing got louder.

When Ajani returned the following morning after an overnight trip, his heart hitched up into his throat as he saw the door to the second bedroom had been destroyed, the frame cracked, sawdust settled in a layer around it. Rushing inside in terror, he found his wife's sword embedded in the wall, and Elspeth herself leaning back against the crib, asleep, her hair falling messily around her shoulders. The child opened its eyes first as Ajani entered, making a happy gurgling noise, and then Elspeth followed suit.

She followed Ajani's gaze to the door and the sword and blushed. "She had nightmares," she said softly. "I…may have overreacted. We may need a new door."

Ajani crossed the room to nuzzle both of them. "Maybe," he agreed with a laugh.


	8. Admissions

"Ral, I can't," Jace whimpered. He was pinned on the bed, writhing, one of Ral's fingers crooking inside him while the other hand held his wrists to the bed. "Just–let me–"

Ral's breath was rough in his ear. "Oh, I think you can."

"Dammit, Ral!"

"Just tell me what you need."

"I need you to touch me!"

"Other than that. Anything else."

Sweat beaded on Jace's face and forehead, and the brief, angry thought about asking Ral to help him with his paperwork vanished as he cried out again, straining to sit up, to move, to do anything. "Fine," he gritted. "Tell me you love me, Ral."

There was a swift pause, and then the hot breath moved to his neck and back to his ear. "Jace–do you know why I put up with you?"

"Be–cause–ghhhhk–"

"Do you know why I let you touch my projects? Do you know why I got that ridiculous cloak of yours cleaned and washed?" Jace's hips bucked in entreaty, but Ral held him, hands and fingers still relentlessly slow and exquisitely gentle. "Do you know why I nearly destroyed the Tenth District when I thought you were dead? Got a guess, Jace?" Jace could only whimper. Ral kissed him, drawing his lips down and across his cheek. "Really? A brilliant telepath like you can't tell me?"

 _I can't even form words_ , Jace wanted to say, but nothing came out.

"Well then. It's because–" Pause. Jace strained upward again.

 _He's not going to say it. It's Ral. He will never, ever in one hundred years ever admit–_

"–because I love you, you idiot."

Jace's vision broke apart into white, the sensation ripped out of him with a choked cry. For a long moment, there was nothing but the crackling storm inside his head, and then he was lying back against the bed, gasping for breath. "Dammit, Ral," he said weakly.

"Told you," Ral said smugly.


	9. Burn from Within

They're hiding beneath a bridge, knee-deep in mud, listening to the sound of the cathars' horses above. It used to be that the cathars would mostly leave you alone as long as you weren't actively testing an experiment near a populated area, but these days they have become pre-emptive. All that Geralf and Ludevic were trying to do was scavenge a few parts from a nearby graveyard, and now Geralf is seriously concerned they might actually die. Considering neither of their revitalization experiments has yet demonstrated promise, death would be quite the setback.

Their breathing seems too loud in the still, dank air, almost as loud as the horses above them and the low murmur of voices and clank of armor. Geralf doesn't want to die. The cathars frighten him far more than his own experiments do, far more than the vampires or werewolves or things that go bump in the night. In his mental theater, he can feel the press of cold steel entering his heart, and that combined with the cold night air sends a full-body shiver through him.

Something warm cuts through the chill of the night, and Geralf turns, shocked, to see that Ludevic has taken his hand and is holding it tightly, staring upward at the bridge above them. Fortunately, in the next moment, they hear a shout, and the cathars ride on and away.

Geralf sighs and, before he can help himself, slumps against Ludevic, who turns to him suddenly, and, before Geralf can move or react, pulls him hard against him. Hot lips press insistently onto Geralf's own, and he can only gasp and shudder against the other man. After a moment, Ludevic pulls back.

"Avacyn help me," he croaks. "Geralf. I think I–I think I love you, and it terrifies me. I feared for you more than for myself."

Geralf can't speak; all he can do is lean forward with a nod and press their lips together once again.


	10. Bound by Moonsilver

There is a dank stench in the air, and the oil lamp is flickering dimly. Geralf watches Ludevic bend over a three-limbed zombie on a slab. He's smudged with corpse-dirt and lamp fuel, and judging from the dark smears of shadow beneath his eyes, he's been awake for three days straight, trying to get this project to work. Geralf's heart does a strange movement in his chest, and he wonders if he should chance taking a look at it. Perhaps later.

For now, something propels words out of his throat and without conscious thought, he blurts, "Marry me?"

The lamplight shifts on Ludevic's face as he looks up, and Geralf cringes, because that must be the most foolish thing he's said in some time. Ludevic is patient with his occasional outbursts of mad cackling, but this–this is too much, he is sure. Too inappropriate. Too strange and offbeat and peculiar. This is the time that their collaborations will simply cease.

"Would Tuesday work?" Ludevic says in his soft, precise voice. "I would say Monday, but I am afraid that it is already–hm–" he peers downward at a small notebook at his elbow, "–occupied with a number of experiments that would be difficult to reschedule."

Geralf coughs wildly. "Y-You mean you will?"

Ludevic blinks and then smiles. "I thought that was a given," he says lightly. "We should probably not invite your sister, though. I don't trust her pets to behave."


	11. Heartstone

She dreams in red and wakes to darkness, and she does not know where she is.

The darkness is like a living thing, come to choke the life out of her, and she feels phantom hands caressing her limbs, her torso, and she hears noises at the corner of her hearing, soft murmurs and laughter, until she is shaking so violently she cannot even force her hands to move to start a fire. It takes too long, with her stiff, scared hands, but eventually, the darkness is broken by the flickering flames, and she is able to look around.

There are stars above her, and there are pebbles on the ground. She kneels on the dirt, feels the stones poking her in the knees, and she pushes her hands so close to the fire that the heat is almost burning. She needs the sensation to ground her, or she will not know where she is, and if she does not know where she is, she could still be there, the cold walls around her, the chill of nothingness in her bones.

There are noises again, and she presses her hand into her mouth until she cannot hear them, bites her fingers until the pain sears into her consciousness. She is safe. She is here now. She is not there.

And yet, she was not dreaming of that dark, hollow prison; she was not dreaming of betrayal. _Oh, weren't you, though?_ whispers a soft, mocking voice inside her head.

It isn't betrayal. She never promised anything.

In her dreams, the cold stones rise dark against the horizon, and her angry glee rises with them. _Sorin_ , she thinks, _Now you'll suffer._ As she thinks this, a hand slides into hers, and there is a soft giggle at her elbow.

"Aren't they pretty?" She's rough and ragged and a little dirty, but always carries herself with courage. She wears a strange headdress that the planeswalker cannot even begin to guess the origins of, and her wavering whistle causes the dead to rise from the ground. And she is no Walker; the taste of the Eternities is forever forbidden to her.

And yet, there are times when Gisa makes her want to forget the pull of the aeons, and instead sit in a graveyard and laugh as Gisa makes a zombie dance for them. Perhaps that's why, when Gisa kisses her, she doesn't pull away.

This was her dream, and something in her does not know if it is a memory, or if it is nothing more than a desire. Her certainties were stripped away by centuries in the iron cage. But this was her dream:

Gisa beneath her on the cold stone floor of the little cottage; Gisa's dress around her waist. Her own fingers, feeling the warmth between the necromancer's legs, as the flickering firelight plays over both of them. Gisa is moaning, writhing back against her, and they're kissing. She does not taste ash and dust and death; she tastes only sweat and desire, and she moves from Gisa's lips to her neck, kissing gently downwards toward her collarbone.

This warmth, this heat between her legs, as she presses herself against Gisa, this is the first time she has felt warm since the darkness closed over her head a millennia ago. Fingers grope her hips and thighs, slide clumsy up her stomach and to her breasts; Gisa whines and bucks against her, shuddering and biting down on her shoulder.

Moments later, Gisa flops back to the floor and grins, a hopeless, helpless, lopsided grin. "I've never had a friend before, you know. I think I like it."

Gisa is likely dead or worse, by now. She is nothing more than another planebound creature, condemned by the loss of the plane that she helped destroy–not willingly, precisely, not intentionally, but she built the Drownyard Temple without question. And if she would not have questioned the woman she regarded as her only _friend_ , that was her own folly.

It was not a betrayal.

Nahiri made no promises.


	12. Emissary of the Sleepless

Nissa notices the nightmares first, perhaps because her room is closest to Jace's. She can't count the number of times she's woken up to soft, desperate sounds from inside his rooms in the middle of the night. She wakes him a couple of times, sits with him until he falls back asleep, but it makes her droopy and sleepy during the day, and Gideon notices.

He calls an emergency meeting of the Gatewatch, which actually means himself, Chandra, Nissa, and Lavinia. (Gideon still doesn't trust Liliana, and he's seen some of the conversations she has with Jace, the mind mage's voice laden with stress and panic and a desperate bitterness that he tries to hide.) "Nissa," he says patiently, "you can't be the only one to help him deal with this. This is a matter for all of us."

Lavinia sets up schedules for each night of the week. She's already observed Jace's sleeping habits, and she knows when the likely trouble days and trouble hours are. It turns out he's almost always all right on Thursdays, but Fridays are generally bad. Wednesdays he has so much paperwork that he rarely sleeps at all, which might be why he sleeps so soundly on Thursdays.

Chandra makes a game out of it, creeping around his quarters in a manner that is far too obviously sneaky to be innocuous. They discover, at the cost of a smashed glass and everyone being woken by the resultant screaming, that using fire to wake Jace up is not ideal. Chandra starts using a wet rag instead. ("Sorry," Jace says evasively when asked, shifting his cloak uneasily on his shoulders. "I had a run-in with a pyromancer once. It wasn't good.")

Lavinia, to everyone's surprise, is the best at waking him, saying his name crisply, but putting a light hand on his. He always wakes up right away when she does, sighing sleepily, smiles in embarrassment and mutters, "Sorry," before turning over to go back to sleep.

"STOP APOLOGIZING!" Chandra yells at Jace one afternoon, and he opens his mouth, forms, "Sor–" and stops in confusion. Gideon laughs, one large hand hovering over Jace's shoulder, and Jace tentatively stretches up, closing the distance between them. "Thanks," he mutters, staring at his matching blue shoes.

Nissa brings plants and fresh air, not touching him to waken him but somehow doing it anyway, brushing his hair and cheeks with vines. At first he shies away, but he gets used to it eventually, until he can wake up, shake his head ruefully, and smile at her.

Three weeks after the Gatewatch starts tacitly looking out for him, Gideon wakes up at midnight to realize he hasn't heard the usual desperate noises from Jace's room. Concerned, he heads over immediately, only to find the door slightly ajar. He pushes the door open and peers inside, only to discover that Jace's bed is overfull–Jace is curled into one corner, knees drawn up to his chest, and behind him, one arm sprawled across his chest, is a man in Izzet colors that Gideon thinks he should recognize, but doesn't immediately.

The Izzet recently had quite a success, Gideon remembers; for the past month or so, almost none of the mages have been seen outside of Nivix, as the jealous eye of Niv has kept them all locked up and busy on some project Gideon knows nothing about, but has heard Jace complain about several times. Now he knows why.

At the creak of the door, Ral Zarek looks up and scowls, putting a finger to his lips. Gideon just nods and smiles and closes the door.

One more person looking out for Jace is definitely okay in his book. He makes a note to get Lavinia to add Ral to the schedule.


	13. Assassin's Blade

This hadn't been part of the plan. Practicing planeswalking as a group had been Jace's idea, but Gideon had thought that it was a good one. Neither of them had expected that they'd manage to pop back into Ravnica in the center of a dispute between the Rakdos and the guildless, however, and now they were in some trouble. At least, Gideon thought in irritation, as he blocked a particularly enthusiastic cackler with his sural, their formation was holding—he and Nissa in the front, Chandra and Liliana at the back, and Jace—the physically most vulnerable member of the group—tucked neatly away in the center.

At one level, it was more of an inconvenience than an actual threat, or it would have been, if they hadn't all been so tired. Jace especially had been practicing hard on the other plane, and by the time they'd left, Gideon had noticed that he was drooping badly. "Don't do any more magic today," he had cautioned the mind mage, because Jace would drive himself well past the point of severe exhaustion and into dangerous territory if he weren't stopped. He needed time to regain his manabonds.

A sudden burst of motion to Gideon's right, too far for him to catch, was a hooded figure in a grey cloak. A momentary glint of light in their hand showed the lawmage that they were holding a dagger. "Chandra!" Gideon called, because she was going to need to intercept. "'Ware assassins!" There was no response. Gideon's head whipped round. "Chandra?"

"GET BACK HERE, ASSHOLE!" came from entirely the wrong direction, and Gideon groaned as he saw Chandra about thirty feet away, chasing a giggling goblin. And if Chandra wasn't there—

 _Jace_. Gideon's heart leaped into his mouth as he swung fully around. The mind mage was standing loosely in the center of the square, mouth slightly open, face almost dazed, as the assassin darted at him. At his side, one hand belated curled into a fist—a fist with the thumb on the inside, because of course Jace couldn't even remember that much self defense.

Gideon was already running, but he knew he was going to be too late—there was no way to get there fast enough, and if the assassin was skilled, there might not even be enough time to get Jace to a healer before— _please no. Not again. Don't let me lose another friend._

The grey-cloaked figure dove at Jace, who moved at what had to be exactly the last second, body language changing so suddenly Gideon's brain almost couldn't process it. The knife skittered shallowly along Jace's side, but there was no solid thunk of blade in flesh, because Jace simply wasn't in the same place anymore. One blue-gloved hand reached out, caught the attacker's wrist, and twisted _hard_. Just as Gideon managed to get within sural distance, the blade dropped into Jace's left hand—and he was _terrible_ with his off-hand, he barely even remembered it was _there_ most of the time, but now he was pivoting gracefully on his foot into an arc that would have put some of Gideon's Irregulars to shame, and there— _there_ was the sound, the ugly dull noise of blade penetrating body. But it wasn't Jace who was crumpling over, falling to his knees in the mud.

Gideon gaped at the body of the would-be assassin, looking from it up to Jace, who immediately tensed up, moving up onto the balls of his feet and holding up the blood-stained knife defensively. "Jace?" Gideon said, blinking in confusion, and an odd furrow appeared in Jace's forehead.

As they stood there, the tide of Rakdos and guildless finished sweeping past, leaving the Gatewatch basically alone in the streets in front of the body of the person Jace had just—stabbed to death.

"Oh, shit," Liliana said succinctly, walking up to Gideon. "Well, do something about the body, muscle boy. We can't just leave it in the street, the Azorius will fuss."

"Did you see that? I kicked his ass—" Chandra was running excitedly back as well. "Wait—what the fuck happened here?"

"Chandra," Gideon said in frustration. "There is a _reason_ I asked you to stay near Jace."

"Sorry." Chandra kicked at a loose stone in the street. "I kind of—got distracted."

"Jace?" Nissa was saying. "Jace, it's all right, we're safe."

Jace was glancing from one of them to the other, his eyes dark and troubled. He paused almost in relief as he lit on Liliana. "Lili?" he said slowly. "What's going on?"

"Jace," Liliana said, and Jace shook his head minutely. She sighed explosively, then stepped forward and slapped him, once, hard, across the face. " _Jace Beleren_ ," she snapped. "You are not Kallist."

Jace's eyes flared with cold blue light, and his hand opened around the dagger, which clattered to the street. "Oh, fuck," he said, and then he was bending over, emptying his stomach into the nearby gutter. Liliana took an uncertain, hovering step toward him, and he shrank back from her, slipping and nearly falling on the wet cobblestones. "Don't touch me," he said hoarsely. "Don't come _near_ me."

She halted, took a deep breath, and then stepped back with a shrug.

"Gideon," Jace managed through retching noises. "I'm not sure I can keep standing upright."

Forcing his still-stunned limbs to move, Gideon managed to catch him before he crumpled to the street. "I've got you," he said, putting a careful arm under his shoulder. "You're fine."

"Th-Thanks," Jace managed. "Sorry. S-S-Sorry." His teeth were chattering.

"Good job not dying," Gideon responded. "You don't have to apologize." He glanced around at the other three. Nissa and Chandra were exchanging confused looks, and Liliana's face was a careful study in monotony. "Let's get back to Jace's office," Gideon said firmly. He didn't know exactly what had just happened, but he could feel the rapid trembling in Jace's muscles, and he wanted to get the mind mage back to some place where he could sit down and relax, preferably for the rest of the day.

"Thanks," Jace murmured again, still sounding sleepy and dazed. He was barely managing to hold himself up even with Gideon's help.

"Jace," Gideon said, "would you mind if I picked you up?"

Startled blue eyes looking up at him, and then Jace shook his head tiredly. "Thanks. Sure."

"All right." Gideon bent over and carefully lifted Jace off the ground. Too light. He'd need to speak with Lavinia about making sure Jace ate more. "Come on," he said to the rest of the Gatewatch. "Let's go home."

If anyone found anything odd about his choice of words, they didn't say so.


	14. Commander's Authority

"You've got to stop."

"What?" Gideon looked up in confusion from cleaning his sword. "Er…have we met?"

The man standing in front of him seemed vaguely familiar, but Gideon couldn't quite place him, although he was obviously a member of the Izzet–the massive, sparking device on his arm would have given that way even if the swirling red-and-blue silks didn't.

A pair of sharp eyebrows rose, and the man jerked his thumb toward the direction of Jace's study. "You're going to get him fucking killed."

"I what?" Gideon stood up, carefully belting his sword at his side. "If you think I'd do anything to threaten Jace–"

"I think he looks up to you a lot," the stranger said bluntly. "I think he'd walk through fire for you if you asked him to. And I think you need to stop making him do everything himself."

"I–what? I'm not making him–who are you anyway?"

Frustrated, irritable sigh. A spark jumped from the metal gauntlet at the other man's elbow and hit the wall with a sizzling noise, and he dropped a hand down to fiddle with a dial so rapidly that the response seemed automatic. "Ral Zarek, Izzet guildmage first, planeswalker second. So I think you can see why I might have something at stake when it comes to not letting the living incarnation of Ravnican law and order die because he's worked himself to death trying to save some backwater plane by himself."

Gideon was starting to think he didn't like this man. He frowned. "I would never ask Jace to take a risk I wouldn't take myself," he responded slowly, but the response he got was a bark of laughter and a larger clot of sparks.

"Because I'm sure you're exceedingly careful with your own life?"

That set Gideon back slightly. "I'm careful of the people under my command," he responded slowly. It was true he could probably stand to be a little more careful with himself, but he was less likely to be damaged than most of the comrades he fought with.

"Look, just follow me, okay?" Zarek nodded toward Jace's study again.

Reluctantly, Gideon followed him down the passageway and into the Guildpact's inner sanctum. Lavinia was standing by the door; she shot the two of them a harsh look as they approached. "Be quiet," she murmured, "he's sleeping."

Again, Gideon frowned. It was late afternoon; why was Jace sleeping?

"I won't wake him up," Zarek growled, shoving past her, and to Gideon's surprise, she let him, though her lips thinned slightly. They thinned further when he went to duck into the room after Zarek, but she nodded at him politely, if coolly.

Jace was sprawled facedown on his desk, his face pillowed in the crook of his arm, three mounds of paperwork hemming in on all sides. Zarek crossed the room to him, hovering in a way that almost looked anxious, then glared daggers at Gideon before very, very softly tucking Jace's cloak a little more securely about his shoulders.

"He's fucking _exhausted_ ," Zarek snarled. "He's got scars everywhere, and now he's bringing home new ones. Because none of you fucking morons have ever considered _delegating_."

"What?" Gideon asked stupidly. Jace shifted uncomfortably in his sleep, and now Gideon could see his friend's face–and he had to admit, Jace did look pale and drawn, with dark shadows marked beneath his eyes and a fading bruise beneath one cheekbone where he'd been struck during a minor tussle on Tarkir.

"There's this amazing thing," Zarek continued. "Where in a lab, for example, you have assistants, and if something is going to be difficult and dangerous, you send _them_ to do it–"

"I won't send other people into danger," Gideon broke in angrily.

"– _because_ ," the Izzet mage continued in a low, deadly voice, "if _you_ get killed, the whole experiment is a failure and your entire team gets eaten by a dragon anyway. Probably."

Gideon looked away. There was–a certain logic in what the Izzet mage was saying, but– "I don't force Jace to do anything," he pointed out. "What he does, he does of his own free will."

Zarek snorted with laughter. "No, he does it because he's fucking terrible at prioritizing and thinks that if something is important he has to go do it himself or it won't get done properly, and if you're his friends, you'll teach him _not to do that_. Don't just keep heaping on the dire warnings and shit."

"As planeswalkers, we have a duty to the Multiverse–" Gideon started, though at this point, he recognized with a little chagrin that he was mostly objecting out of defensiveness.

"And as the Living Guildpact, he has a duty to Ravnica. Frankly, if it were up to me, I'd say fuck the Multiverse, but I know Jace won't do that, because he–cares too fucking much. And you're a bad influence, so fucking stop it."

It wasn't easy to be dressed-down like a child, but Gideon bit back the sharp words that rose to his lips in answer–and was suddenly glad he'd done so, when Jace made a soft noise in his sleep, and he saw the concerned, almost tender look the Izzet mage shot towards the sleeping Guildpact.

"All right," Gideon said in a clipped voice. "I'll–try. I'm still going to send for him if we need his expertise, but I'll–try to let him know it's important for him to be here as well."

" _Thank_ you." Electricity crawled across Zarek's hair and down his back. "Then I guess I'll let myself out." He started towards the door, then paused, sending another sharp look back over his shoulder. "And even though you are supposedly indestructible, I still remember hearing about you _collapsing_ on the steps to the Chamber of the Guildpact. Learn. To. Delegate."

Before Gideon could muster even another breath, he was gone, stalking out of the room in a shower of sudden sparks. The door shut softly behind him, but even so, Jace started up sleepily.

"Gideon? Something wrong? You need me?" His voice was slurred with sleep and exhaustion, and Gideon looked over, a sudden guilt welling up in his throat.

"No–Jace, go back to sleep. I was just–looking for a book."

Bleary blue eyes regarded him for a moment, and then Jace yawned and put his head down on the desk again, with a murmured, "oh, sure, 'kay."

Tiptoeing back toward the door, Gideon shook his head. He shouldn't have missed this. It was too important. Rude as he was, the Izzet guildmage hadn't been in the wrong.

"Er, Lavinia," he said as he shut the door quietly behind him. "Could you see if you could…find some people who could, um, help out with…things?" Not a very coherent request, but she raised a friendly eyebrow.

"Yes, Captain Jura, I think I can find you some people who could help out with things. And–" she shuffled her feet slightly. "–Guildmage Zarek is often rather difficult, but I believe he does care for Jace."

"Yes," Gideon nodded slowly. "Thank you, Lavinia."

 _And thank you, Guildmage Zarek._

He started back in the direction of his quarters. He had a lot to think about.


	15. Nourish

"Jace, we need to talk."

Jace looked up wearily from the third stack of papers of the day. "Can it wait, Gideon?"

His friend frowned. "I'd rather it didn't," he replied. Chandra and Nissa were standing behind him, shuffling uncomfortably.

Jace stared sadly down at the pile of papers. He was never going to get through it anyway. With a weary groan, he put his face down on top of it, and it rustled at him accusatorily. "Fine. What is it?"

There was a long, tense silence. Finally, Chandra spoke up. "Oh, for fuck's sake. You said we were going to do this because we were worried about him, you can't all just back out because you're scared or whatever. Jace, you have to eat more."

Blinking, Jace looked up at them. "Um?" he said. "I eat!" Granted, he couldn't bring to mind the last time he'd actually had food today, but he trusted Lavinia to make sure he didn't skip meals even if he was focused on his work.

"You're too skinny," Chandra shot back, and Jace got a sudden, cold feeling in the pit of his stomach.

"That's not quite—" Gideon interrupted, and Chandra shot him an annoyed look. "All right, yes, it is. We're worried about you because—well—the shape of your chest and arms _does_ indicate some level of—malnutrition—and—"

"I'm not malnourished," Jace said sharply. "Ask Lavinia if you don't believe me."

Again, Gideon, Chandra, and Nissa exchanged looks. "I'm sure it's in Lavinia's best interests to care for you," Gideon said, sounding as if he was trying to be soothing. "But she's not a healer—"

"Neither are any of you." Jace crossed his arms over his chest. "I'm fine. Just drop it."

"Actually, I do have some small knowledge of healing," Nissa put in. "And we did ask a healer to look you over the other day, because we didn't want to upset you—"

 _Oh, Krokt._ He was going to have to tell them, wasn't he? Clearly he'd gotten careless with his illusions, or maybe it hadn't occurred to him that anyone other than Lavinia would notice, because who else would _care_?

He tried one more time. "Please drop it?"

Again, those very uncomfortable looks. Chandra crossed her own arms right back at him. "You're not allowed to starve yourself, Jace," she said angrily.

"I'm n-not, I'm just—" He put a hand to his face, pressing back the tears that threatened to flow for just a moment. "I have a, um, I have…" he trailed off, because he didn't—couldn't put words to it. Staring at the desk, he sighed. Perhaps it had been bound to happen sometime. It was unlikely to be very terrible, he thought; Lavinia hadn't reacted badly at all; nor had Emmara. But something inside Jace still caught and screamed on other memories, older ones, _Tezzeret-Paldor-Liliana_ —he'd never told Kallist, too afraid of losing his best friend. Liliana hadn't been so awful. She'd just laughed, and arched an eyebrow, and made some comment about him being "strange." Tezzeret—Jace shuddered.

"Jace, it's all right." Nissa hovered by his shoulder.

"I've seen many people who had trouble eating," Gideon agreed. "It's nothing to be ashamed—"

"I don't have trouble eating!" Jace pressed his knuckles into his forehead. "Look, I'll—I'll show you, all right? And then you can leave me alone?" That wasn't quite true. He _did_ sometimes have trouble eating, when the food turned to heavy stone in his mouth and stomach, but it wasn't as bad as they thought it was. It wasn't why— _this_.

He didn't wait for a response, because he'd lose his nerve if he did. Instead, he started to shrug off his cloak and undo his collar. He just had to show them enough to—to let them see, after all. He hated doing this; even when he was alone, it often made him feel vaguely sick to his stomach, frustratingly _wrong_. Sometimes he was able to feel divorced enough from his body that it didn't matter, but there were other times.

This was one of the other times. Jace stared intently at the ceiling as the belts came loose next, and he took a sudden gulp of air as his chest distended. Probably the belts would have been enough to make his point sufficiently well, but he was embarrassed, frustrated, and possibly feeling faintly vindictive, so he pulled his tunic off over his head as well. There was a sudden silence, broken only by a sudden, embarrassed cough from Gideon.

"All right? Are we done prying into my personal business now?" Jace snapped, even though he could feel the hollow terror rising beneath his damn breasts, and his voice wasn't quite steady.

"You know, that's probably _not_ the best way to hide those," Chandra said, sounding very matter-of-fact, and Jace took his gaze away from the ceiling to stare at her in confusion. "Seriously, can you even _breathe_? I guess you're eating more than we thought, though, that's good."

"Um." Jace blinked at her. "I, um…what?"

"I can probably get you something pretty easily," she continued blithely. "A couple of monks on Regatha had some great spells for that kind of thing."

"Th-thank you?" Jace hazarded. That was the right thing to say under the circumstances, right? He pried his eyes away from Chandra's absolute nonchalance, which was extremely reassuring, and forced himself to look at Gideon and Nissa. As he'd feared, they were both red in the face, and Gideon was looking away.

"I…" Jace's voice hollowed out again, and he instinctively crossed his arms over his chest. "Just. Are we done? Can I put my shirt back on now?"

"I've made you uncomfortable," Gideon said stiffly. "I'm so sorry, Jace."

"You could still probably do with eating a little more," Nissa put in softly. "But I'm sorry we made you feel—vulnerable."

Hunching his back, Jace drew his tunic back on. It wasn't enough, but it was a comforting weight on his naked shoulders. "So you—you don't hate me?" he mumbled into the desk.

"Gods, Jace. No." Gideon was across the room immediately, one hand hovering over Jace's. "No," he repeated, shaking his head. Jace almost wanted to take his hand, but now that the first flood of panic inside was ebbing, he sat back with an angry frown.

"You called a healer on me instead of just asking me?"

"We were worried…" Nissa trailed off.

"I don't like feeling trapped," Jace said coldly, folding his crossed arms. "If there was something wrong, I would have told you."

"I have just known people who—wouldn't eat, or talk about it, or…" Nissa shook her head. "I'm sorry. You're right. It was foolish."

"Ha!" Chandra said unexpectedly. "I _told_ you we should just have asked him!"

The 'him' sent a tiny frisson of reassurance through Jace. "Yes," he agreed, nodding. "Thank you, Chandra. Look," he turned back to Nissa and Gideon, "I know I don't always remember to eat, but I actually am aware that food is an important part of living."

"I apologize, Jace." Gideon put his hand down on the desk beside Jace's. "I won't do it again. But I am going to start bringing you a few more snacks. And Chandra's right." He indicated the belts. "That cannot be good for your ribs."

"If you can find me something better, I'll take it. Thanks."

"Yeah, sure, I can head to Regatha and back tomorrow," Chandra offered.

"Th-Thank you," he managed again, and this time he couldn't quite keep the tremor out of his voice.

"Jace," Gideon said. "Look at me."

Reluctantly, Jace met his gaze.

"We are your friends. We're going to screw things up sometimes, but it's not going to be because we hate you. And you're not going to lose us."

There was a sudden tightness in his throat, but Jace managed to nod, closing his eyes against the prick of tears.

"Just quit doing stupid shit." Chandra punched him awkwardly on the arm. "That's supposed to be my thing."

He chuckled weakly. "Sorry for treading on your toes."

He still felt hollow and vulnerable, the cool air of his office playing over the bare skin of his shoulders. But there was a tight ball of warmth inside his chest as well. _You're not going to lose us._ For one of the first times in his life, he actually believed that.


	16. Elemental Bond

Something had woken Nissa up. She opened her eyes, expecting to see the first rays of sunlight shining through her window, but instead, she only saw the trickle of yellow artificial lights that still gave her a slightly uneasy feeling. Ravnica. She was on Ravnica.

She groped for the leylines; it was harder to find them than on Zendikar, but, after a moment's searching, there they were. Taking a deep breath, she let the comforting familiarity of even a distant, foreign world's heart wash over her. As she started to drift off to sleep again, she wondered what had woken her in the middle of the night, and that was when she heard it again.

It was a soft noise, but sufficiently pained that it had cut right through her sleep, like the whimpering of a small, wounded animal. Without thinking, Nissa stumbled to her feet and pulled her blanket around her shoulders as a makeshift robe, warm against the chill of the Ravnican night. Then she followed the sound.

She must have forgotten to shut her door the night before, which explained how she'd heard it so clearly, when it was actually coming from somewhere on the floor below. Sighing, she started down the stairs. She hated the feeling of worked stone instead of warm earth beneath her bare feet, but never mind. She still hadn't decided how long she would remain here.

The noises were coming from Jace's study, which she hadn't expected. That door was also slightly ajar, and she pushed it open the whole way.

Jace was lying across his desk, both hands tangled in the fabric of his cloak, and he was making small, terrified noises that made Nissa's heart ache. She wasn't quite sure what to do. Though she and Jace had spent some time connected at a deeper level than she had with some of the rest of the Gatewatch, she still felt as if she understood him less than any of the rest, except maybe Liliana, whom she had no desire to understand, in any case.

So now she didn't know what could be causing him to react like this, and she didn't know what to do about it, but she had to do something. So she crossed the room to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Jace?" she said quietly.

The noises stopped immediately as he blinked his eyes open and instantly stiffened, pulling away from her touch and curling into his cloak as if he were trying to make himself smaller. There was confusion in his eyes that cleared only when Nissa stepped back and felt a sudden, rough probe in her head, that was almost as quickly withdrawn.

"Krokt," Jace breathed. "I'm sorry, Nissa. What are you doing here?"

"I think you were having nightmares," she replied. "I just wanted to make sure you–were all right."

Gathering himself up, Jace pulled his cloak about him in a way that was probably intended to be authoritative, but didn't quite work. Something about his mussed hair and the forced tension in his shoulders made her think of a little boy playing dress up. "I'm fine, Nissa, thank you," he said. "I'm sorry that I woke you."

"It's fine." Something compelled her to reach out and put the hand back on his shoulder. "What were the nightmares about?"

Taking a deep breath, Jace seemed about to say something; then her words seemed to percolate, and he let the breath out again in something like surprise. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he seemed to be searching for words.

Nissa squatted beside the chair he was seated in, lowering herself to something closer to his level. "You don't have to tell me," she said gently. "But I've found sometimes it's easier to deal with nightmares if you have someone to talk to them about." _Oh, Ashaya._

Jace's gaze dropped away from her. "I was dreaming about–an old friend," he said haltingly. "He–was in love with me, and I never realized."

This was a little out of Nissa's area of expertise, but she still tried. "Sometimes people don't notice other people's feelings, it's nothing to be ashamed of."

"And then I got him killed." Jace sighed and leaned back in his chair. "I mean, it wasn't entirely my fault. Liliana–this was back when she and I were–together."

Nissa stared at him. She'd known, of course, that Jace and Liliana had known each other for some time, but… " _Liliana_?" she blurted. " _Really_ , Jace?"

"Hey, this was years ago!" Jace protested. "I was young and stupid, and she isreally attractive."

"She's a terrible person." When Jace pulled a face, Nissa insisted. "She is, you know she is. I don't trust her at all."

"You don't trust her because she's a necromancer." But the protest sounded a little feeble.

"That's one of many reasons." But Jace was shivering a little now, and looking faintly defensive. "I'm sorry, Jace, that's not important now. Your friend–what was his name?"

"Kallist," Jace whispered miserably. "He was one of the first friends I ever–well, that I remember having. If it hadn't been for him, I'd have died so many times over, and then he died because of me."

"He loved you, didn't he? I'm sure he wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

"I know," Jace murmured. "Well, I don't know. He was pretty vindictive." He managed a smile. "He might get a kick out of me having nightmares about him, though I guess he'd prefer it if I had–uh–" he blushed "–other kinds of dreams, not that I usually do, it's just, um…" He shook his head. "Sorry, I'm still very sleepy."

"Maybe you should go to bed."

Jace stared down at his desk. "I haven't finished my paperwork for today," he objected. "I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"It can wait." There was a pallet in the corner of Jace's office; Lavinia had probably left it there for this exact reason. "Come on, you need some proper sleep."

"But–" Jace protested weakly, and Nissa paused.

"Do you really not want to?" she asked, and Jace glanced up at her with startled blue eyes.

"I–no–I suppose you're right, I should," he said slowly, almost wonderingly. He stretched and yawned, and then took the hand that Nissa proffered to him and stood up. "Thanks again," he said awkwardly, as he sank down onto the pallet. Nissa stood still for a moment, and then sat down on the edge beside him. Jace blinked at her. "You don't have to stay."

"It's all right," she replied quietly. "You'll probably sleep better if you have someone here when you're falling asleep."

Jace opened his mouth as if he were about to protest, then closed it again, very firmly. "Thank you," he muttered.

"We're friends," Nissa told him firmly. "You don't have to thank me. Just go to sleep." She put a hand on his forehead, and he sniffed, blinked rapidly, and then shut his eyes firmly.

She stroked his forehead slowly as his breathing evened out, and his face slackened into sleep. "Jace, you're a mess," she whispered to his sleeping form. Stripped of his illusions and defenses, he seemed lost and small and lonely. He needed more friends. He shouldn't always be the one trying to keep everyone safe. Nissa made a mental note to tell Gideon to keep Liliana as far away from Jace as possible. "You have friends now," she said to him. "And we're not going anywhere."

Jace smiled in his sleep.


	17. Attune with Aether

**A/N:** Thanks to paperclipminimizer and Camille especially, as well as everyone else on Sketchydoodles' Vorthos server, and Allison Luhrs for giving us the gift that is Yahenni.

 **Attune with Aether**

 _Blinding pain, the stench of cooking flesh, the screams of the dying—_

Jace Beleren sat up with a sobbing gasp, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes. It was a nightmare he was only too familiar with, but not one he would ever quite be able to rid himself of, he suspected. He drew his knees up to his chest, muttering a manaflow formula to himself, trying to focus on where he was now and pull himself out of the horrors of the past.

It wasn't enough. The scratchy bedspread beneath his legs, the scents of lingering spices, even the heavy humidity in the air—all of it was fundamentally _not home_. He needed something more to anchor himself. So he pressed his hands harder against his eyes and reached out with his mind—gently, just enough to feel the shape of minds around him, but not enough to actually see their thoughts or dreams.

First he felt the shifting, fiery brightness of Chandra, then the shining, rock-solid comfort of Gideon. He spent a moment testing his connection with Nissa, which wasn't wholly of his own making, and which pushed back gently when he pushed against it. That helped. His breathing started to steady, as he was able to tell himself, _You're on Kaladesh. You're helping Chandra. You're going to go home soon._ _You're fine._

Letting his head fall back against the pillow, he threw out one last quick mental check, just to be sure there was no cause for alarm. Liliana was awake—on watch—and he shied away from the all-too-familiar brush of her mind a little too quickly, pulling back as if he'd touched a hot stove.

 _I killed them._ That mind was new and took Jace a moment to place. Yahenni, Chandra's friend, who'd come to warn them earlier in the day. The aetherborn. He'd been on Kaladesh long enough to know that aetherborn didn't sleep, so wasn't exactly surprised that they were awake. But they weren't just awake. Even that brief thought was tinged with guilt and pain and—well, a lot of the things Jace had woken up feeling.

Maybe he should go back to sleep. Maybe they wouldn't appreciate the intrusion. But somehow, he didn't like to go back to sleep again when somebody was—hurting. Jace knew he wasn't Gideon or Nissa. He didn't know what to say or how to comfort someone. But maybe he'd be better than nothing.

He found Yahenni seated in front of the tiny, soot-stained window. Their knees were curled up to their chest, and they looked up as he approached.

"I, um," Jace said. "Are you okay? I heard—you seemed—"

They didn't seem particularly perturbed. "Oh, darling, don't worry about me," they said. "I'm just processing a lot."

"Mind if I…" Jace waved a hand at the empty spot on the windowseat beside them.

"Go ahead."

They sat in silence for a few moments. Then Jace took a deep breath. "I know how you feel," he said awkwardly.

Yahenni cocked their head at him. "Well, you are a mind mage, are you not?" The words sounded light but came out curiously flat.

"No, I mean. I mean I know how you feel because I've felt it, too. I—" He took a deep breath. He hadn't really shared this particular experience with many people. "When I was seventeen, I made the extremely poor decision to join a group called the Infinite Consortium, which I've regretted pretty much since I set my foot in the door. I got away, but—I was running from them, through a crowd of people, and I summoned a drake to attack the people I was running from, but I—" he swallowed. Talking about this was harder than he'd expected it to be. "—I didn't think about what I was doing. I was just trying to protect myself, but it didn't just attack the conspirators, it got everyone." Jace shut his eyes. "E-Every person in the street. And I was in their heads, so I felt them die." He sighed. "I didn't mean to, but I killed them to save my own life."

"I see." Yahenni was looking at him quietly. "It hurt, didn't it?" they asked, after a moment.

Jace nodded.

"Did it ever stop hurting?"

"I don't think about it all the time." Jace played with a loose thread on his cloak. "But sometimes I dream about it." He managed a smile. "That's not a problem I think you're going to have."

There were a few more moments of silence, and Jace wondered if he'd said the wrong thing, but Yahenni spoke again. "I've always known I could take it if I wanted to—people's essence. But I never thought I _would_." They shut their eyes. "But they were hurting Nived—I thought they were going to kill him. The man is a _brilliant_ caterer, and the enforcer was just going to snuff him out. Just like—" they snapped their fingers. "So I killed them instead." Yahenni brushed a stray dust particle off of their shoulder. "I was dying," they said. "I was dying, and that enforcer gave me twelve days. The one that I killed in front of here—they gave me eleven days. I was dying and I have _twenty-two days_ left, now. I suppose that doesn't sound like much to you."

"Maybe not right now," Jace returned, "but there were times when I thought that I only had hours left. Twenty-two days would have seemed like an eternity."

They nodded jerkily. "It's hard to be born and see so little of how _much_ there is to see! So much beauty and wonder and _feeling_ in the world, and we only get to see a few years' worth. And now I have another twenty-two days, but I got that twenty-two days by stealing _their_ experiences. Stealing their lives." Yahenni pressed their face into their hands.

Jace couldn't find anything to say, so instead, he put out an awkward hand and gingerly laid it on their shoulder. Gideon would do that, wouldn't he? Maybe he would have asked first. But Jace felt no opposition, only a surge of gratitude, and he—well, he just _wasn't_ Gideon. Maybe he should stop trying to be.

Yahenni leaned sideways against him. "It's almost dawn," they said. "Share this with me, darling."

The horizon was glowing faintly. "All right." Jace shifted slightly into a more comfortable position and gingerly put an arm around Yahenni's shoulders, doing a quick mental double-check to make sure they didn't mind.

They didn't. The physical contact was comforting. Reassured, Jace settled down, looking out at the horizon. Already, some orange was showing above the relentless lights of the city. Even with the Consulate-mandated curfews, there were still a plethora of bright lights scattered everywhere, turning the night sky inky black above them. Jace still didn't know if there were stars on Kaladesh.

The light changed slowly, barely perceptible. Pinky orange bled into the clouds above the horizon; then white light caught in them, reflecting outwards, turning their insides to spun silver. Finally, the sun itself began to rise, and Jace caught his breath. There was something so hopeful about the sight of it, rising across the sprawling city, illuminating sparkling metal, shining concrete, and glittering aether. For a moment, the world inverted, and Jace had a fleeting image of a similar view, seen from even higher up, the wind whistling in his ears, but it was gone almost as soon as it had come.

Beside him, Yahenni sighed a deep, contented sigh. "Thank you ever so much," they murmured. "It's always beautiful, but it's more beautiful with someone who's never seen it before."

"You're welcome." Jace rubbed sleep-crusted eyes and yawned. "Thanks for showing it to me."

"Anytime, darling." They shifted away and looked at him curiously. "Have you forgiven yourself?"

"Um." Jace tugged uneasily on his cloak. "I…I don't know," he said, finally, honestly. "I guess, at one level, I feel like I _shouldn't_. But on another level, I know there's nothing I can do but try to make things better for the people who are still alive. I still wake up from nightmares about the things I've done, and I still don't know if I'm doing the right thing, and sometimes I definitely feel like I should have died several years ago. Sometimes I don't. Is that forgiveness? I don't know."

"You've seen so much." Yahenni turned on the windowseat and folded their hands in their lap. "You've been alive for so much longer than I have, and you've experienced so many more things than I ever will, and I envy you for that. Part of me doesn't care how awful the things were that you've experienced, I just want the time to experience them. And part of me—I'm not sure I know." They stretched as well. "Maybe I don't need to know yet. I have twenty-one days to work it out." They flashed Jace a warm feeling, the mental equivalent of a smile, and if it was just a little bit forced, he wasn't going to comment. "Now, shall we get started on this glorious day, darling?"

He held out a hand. "Whenever you're ready."


	18. Breaking Point

**A/N:** Takes place directly after the Magic Story _Breakthrough._

 **Breaking Point**

"Are you the inventor? Mother of storms, are you all right?"

Gideon glanced over as Jace raced to meet Saheeli's craft. Rashmi, leaning heavily on her friend, was stepping tiredly out, and the elf stared at Jace in utter incomprehension.

"I...yes?" she hazarded.

Seeming to realize that all eyes were on him, Jace took a deep breath and stepped back a pace, trying to hide the lines of agitation showing in his form. Gideon frowned. He'd had no idea that Jace was so concerned, and he wasn't quite sure why. The mind mage was not generally given to explosive displays of emotion, and, in fact, had been more quiet and withdrawn than ever during their sojourn on Kaladesh.

Jace's eyes flickered to Liliana. "Tezzeret?" he asked sharply.

She shrugged. "He's still there. Our new inventor friend was very...inventive." Jace seemed to droop slightly, and Liliana continued, looking over at Gideon. "It's a pity, I really would have liked to have some time alone with Tezzeret. Let him know I don't-" pause, sudden emphasis "- _appreciate_ what he did to me."

"What?" Jace repeated stupidly, and Gideon's frown deepened. Jace's behavior was definitely becoming erratic. Maybe he should speak with him, make sure everything was all right-so far, he hadn't been receptive to Gideon's quiet questions, but maybe he ought to push a little more-make sure Jace knew he was only asking out of concern.

Liliana grimaced. "Tezzeret-"

Jace held up a hand. "No," he said, clearly. "No, I'm sorry, what are you going to say, Liliana? Are you going to say that Tezzeret stopped you from stealing the Consortium and giving it back to the dragon?"

"Jace, you know what he did to-"

"To me. Yeah. Not to _you_ , Liliana. _You_ weren't the one who had your back sliced up because you saved Tezzeret from his own failures. _You_ weren't the one who was locked in a cell for weeks with a pyromancer attending to you _personally_ every day while he tried to find a way to cut out your brain. I am _not your accessory."_

"I'm just trying to protect-"

Jace laughed, a short, sharp, mirthless laugh. "To _protect_ me? No, you're really not. I came with you because I thought I'd be able to help, keep people _safe_ , but that was just me being naive again. You don't want to keep people safe, and I have other responsibilities. Zarek was right."

Raising a hand, Gideon started forward. "Jace, can I-"

"No. I am the Living Guildpact first and foremost, and the rest of you can sort this mess out amongst yourselves. If you need me, you know where to find me."

The tang of the Eternities burst almost instantly onto Gideon's senses, and he almost gaped at the speed with which Jace Walked, the rent in reality sealing behind him nearly instantaneously.

* * *

Ral was staring irritably at his notes. He was sure that his equations were right, but for some reason they kept failing to work out. Rubbing at his eyes, he tried once again to drag his mind back to focus on his work, but before he could get any farther, there was a sudden silence behind him, a weird moment where he could hear absolutely nothing coming from one particular location, and he looked up to see a very angry-looking mind mage drop directly into Nivix, the aether of the Eternities melting away as Ral watched.

"Do you know any good alehouses?" Jace asked without preamble.

Ral opened his mouth and closed it again, then frowned. "Where the hell have you been?" he asked. "Or rather, _why_ the hell have you-"

"Trying to help the wrong people." Jace cut him off, then pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers. "I'm sorry. You were right."

"Of course I was right." Ral leaned back in his chair, hiding his surprise at the statement. "I'm always right, but I'm a little busy at the moment-"

Jace's eyes flared briefly blue. "Equation 3, you're missing a negative sign, you were _literally_ just about to figure that out."

"Beleren..."

"Yeah, yeah, I'll stay out, I'm sorry, I just really need a drink, okay?"

Ral glanced back at the paper in front of him, scowled at the negative sign that Jace was entirely correct about-damn him-added it in, and then looked up. The Guildpact looked a little unsteady on his feet, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes; one hand played restlessly with his too-long hair. "Fine," he snorted. "I need a break anyway. There's a nice little place just off Korunni Street."

There was a heartbeat as Ral's words penetrated, and then Jace's eyes slid shut for a just a moment, the tension is his shoulders relaxing very slightly. "Thank you," he said.39


	19. Boundless Realms

"Ha, found you!"

Nissa frowned as Chandra popped her head up the trap door that led downwards to the rest of the building.

"That must have been exceedingly difficult, considering I spend most of my time here." She wasn't usually one for snark, but maybe Jace was rubbing off on her a bit. "What did you need?"

Chandra shrugged. "Bored, mostly. Jace is doing Guildpact stuff, Gids is practicing, and Liliana's shut in her room for some reason."

"And I'm trying to meditate." Nissa sighed, trying to soften the words. She did enjoy the impetuous pyromancer's company; it was just difficult to spend so much time on a plane of stone and steel instead of earth.

"Um." Chandra hauled herself onto the roof and then stood, toeing at the dirt like a little girl who'd just been scolded. "You could teach me?"

Nissa opened her mouth to refuse, but shut it again. She doubted her ability to impart anything like the kind of patient reverie she preferred to someone as rash and impatient as Chandra, but, on the other hand, perhaps spending a little time with her–friend?–would be pleasant. "All right," she said, finally. "Come here, then."

She patted the sun-warmed ledge beside her. Gingerly, Chandra picked her way between the plants of the garden, going surprisingly far out of her way to avoid touching any of them.

"They're not _that_ fragile," Nissa pointed out, and Chandra stopped, evidently abashed.

"I, um, had a run-in with a bush when I was fourteen," she said. "And kind of accidentally burned down most of the forest. I don't wanna do that to your favorite garden."

"I don't think you're going to burn down the garden if you brush against one of the flowers, but I appreciate your concern," Nissa replied mildly. Chandra flushed and marched across the rest of the way before throwing herself down beside the elf with an air of unconcern.

"Okay, teach me how to turn my brain off or whatever," she said gruffly.

"Shut your eyes," Nissa said, and Chandra, after a momentary pause, did so. "All right, now focus on your breathing. Breathe in slowly, to a count of three, then exhale."

Chandra huffed in a breath, held it, and puffed it out again.

"It will probably work better if you can do the breathing _continuously_."

Chandra seemed to shake herself slightly, but her second breath was much steadier.

"Now focus on your heartbeat," Nissa said. "Feel your breath as you draw it in, and feel the pulse inside you as you push it out."

Frowning in concentration, Chandra bit her lip, and Nissa found herself staring–for some reason–at the other woman's lips. She had to blink rapidly and force herself to look away, her own heartrate rising in a way it certainly shouldn't be.

"I just get so distracted," Chandra huffed. "And I have a hard time relaxing. I mean I know it's dumb, but I kind of feel like something is going to sneak up on me and try to eat me when I'm doing this. I meditated at the monastery, but I guess I never really got past that."

"I promise I won't let anything eat you," Nissa said in amusement, putting a hand on Chandra's shoulder.

"You could eat me," Chandra mumbled, and then her eyes flew open. "Oh, shit, did I say that out loud? Fuck me."

"That's what it sounded like you were asking," was out of Nissa's mouth before she considered the words, and she stared, horrified, back at Chandra. "I–I mean–"

Chandra's face was flaming red. "Shit, sorry, this got awkward, I'll leave."

As she started to get up, Nissa caught her arm. "Wait–"

"Look, I've, I've kind of had a crush on you for a while, you know? It took me forever to notice, but you're just really _elegant_ and _beautiful_ and shit? And just being around you makes me so weirdly calm when I'm not, like, thinking about–uh–about stuff. But I didn't want this to get _weird_ so I'm–ugh–I'm so sorry–I just–"

"I think you're beautiful, too," Nissa whispered at the ground. "Chandra, you are _fire_ and _light_. I've never met anyone so–so _captivating_."

"Well, shit." Chandra spun on her heel as quickly as a dancer, and suddenly she was bending over Nissa, hands on her shoulders. "I wasn't expecting that, but, um–"

Nissa tipped her face up and shut her eyes. An instant later, she felt lips on hers. Chandra was probably trying to be gentle, but she wasn't really being gentle at all. Nissa reached up and clutched at her waist, holding on for dear life as Chandra sucked on her lower lip.

"Ouch!" she said suddenly as Chandra shifted and bit down slightly too hard.

"Oh, fuck, I'm sorry." Nissa had to hold onto Chandra's waist to stop her from jerking away entirely.

"Just slow down a little, it's fine."

"I'm just–so bad at this–I've never actually–I–"

"Chandra." Nissa put a gentle finger on Chandra's lips. "You are fine. I don't really know what I'm doing either. We're–we're _exploring_." She took Chandra's hand and pressed it to her chest. "Feel my heart? It's beating just as fast as yours."

Chandra blinked at her for a moment, then got an evil grin on her face, slid her hand down, and squeezed. Nissa squeaked, toes curling, and pulled Chandra against her. "That's not what I meaaaant," she gasped, as Chandra continued to massage her breast through the relatively thin cloth.

"But you like it, right?"

"Yuh-yes." Chandra's other hand dropped immediately to Nissa's other breast, and then she visibly paused, took a deep breath, and rubbed her thumbs across the nipples  
much more slowly than Nissa had expected. Nissa shivered, suddenly very much wanting Chandra's hands on her naked skin. "Here," she said, and reaching up, she slid the cloth bands of her shirt down off her shoulders.

Chandra's mouth opened slowly. "Oh, _wow_ ," she breathed. "You have really great tits, Nissa." _  
_

"Um. Thank you?" Nissa hazarded, with slight confusion.

"Uh, should I have said breasts?"

"I think you should be touching them, actually." Nissa took Chandra's hands and put them firstly onto her naked breasts.

Chandra made a soft, intrigued noise, and leaned on one knee on the ledge between Nissa's legs. Then she began to move her hands. Pinpricks of sensation ran through Nissa's chest, and heat spiked between her legs. She bit her lip and leaned upward to kiss Chandra again.

With Nissa leading, the kiss was deep but gentle, and Chandra responded, hesitantly at first, then more and more eagerly. Nissa was starting to pull her closer when Chandra said, "Hang on a minute," then pulled the loose shirt she was wearing up and over her head, leaving herself topless. She gave Nissa a hopeful, eager expression, and Nissa felt almost lightheaded with sudden desire.

"Come here," she murmured, drawing Chandra back into the kiss. Their breasts pressed and rubbed against one another–oh, Chandra was soft, so soft. Nissa's hands moved down her back, mapping the hollow of her back, the bumps of her spine, the little mole beneath her right shoulderblade. Then, daringly, she dipped her fingertips beneath Chandra's waist, and Chandra moaned.

Encouraged, Nissa said, "Here, turn around," and gently turned Chandra so that she was seated between Nissa's legs.

"Wh-What are you planning?" Chandra asked, sounding slightly breathless, and Nissa deftly slid two fingers down her leggings, between her legs. She yelped and bucked against Nissa's hand.

"Fuck," she gasped breathlessly. "Keep doing that, nnnn _–nnnnnn_ –Nissa!"

Kissing delicately at the back of Chandra's neck, Nissa held her in place with an arm across her stomach as she slid her fingers slowly up and down.

"Oh, fuck, that's too slow, _please_ ," Chandra whined. Scrabbling behind her, she managed to get a hand on Nissa's stomach and clumsily traced downward, spitting out a furious curse as she ran into Nissa's lower clothing. "Lemme get this off, Nissa, c'mon."

"Stand up for a minute, then." Nissa slid the rest of her outfit off, letting it pool on the ground at her feet, and Chandra made a sad noise.

" _I_ wanted to get it off you," she said petulantly, and then she grabbed Nissa's hips, steadying her, and knelt between her legs. "Let me do this, anyway."

Nissa stared for a moment, and then gasped as she felt Chandra's tongue between her legs. Heat pooled in her stomach, and she whimpered the pyromancer's name, one hand falling gently onto Chandra's head, the other reaching out to steady herself on the ledge. Chandra put her hand on top of Nissa's, then began to flick her tongue energetically.

Nissa cried out, back arching without her control, hips tipping up and down as Chandra continued her ministrations. There was warmth blooming from her groin to her stomach, shooting to her heart, and she tangled her fist in Chandra's silky hair and moaned her name.

Just a few more movements of Chandra's tongue, and Nissa was curling forward, warmth surging through all her limbs, twisting her small with ecstacy, her hands still clutching desperately at Chandra. She had to take one deep, gulping breath of the soft-scented garden air, then another, until finally she was able to droop backwards. Chandra sat back on her heels, wiping her mouth with her hand, looking very pleased with herself.

"Chandra, let me–"

"Ooh," said Chandra. "Yes, please!"

As she got up and slid back into the spot in front of Nissa, there was a creaking noise, and the trap door in the floor opened, letting a blue-cloaked head poke up. "Nissa, I wanted to ask y–"

Jace's mouth dropped opened, rapidly followed by the trap-door closing again as he lost his grip on it. Nissa winced at the sound of several solid thumps from beneath them. After a long minute, the trap-door very cautiously opened again. Jace's eyes were determinedly shut this time.

"I am going to _close_ this again," he said, "and then I am going to suggest that you two _lock_ it, and we are going to pretend that I never saw any of this. And then I am going to go find someone to deal with this concussion. Nissa, I'd like to talk to you later, please."

Nissa coughed apologetically. "Of course, Jace."

"Thanks. Seriously, though, _lock the damn door._ "

The trap-door went down again. Nissa laughed slightly ruefully, pressing her head against Chandra's back, and Chandra squirmed back against her. "Hurry up and lock the door, because I'd really like to get off now," she said.


	20. Benediction of Moons

Oviya watches the way Nissa looks at Chandra. It's familiar; it makes her heart feel heavy with memories and longing. Kalpana looked at her that way once.

 _The moonlight shines pale and colorless across the junkyard. Oviya takes care to watch where she steps, preferring not to twist her ankle on a discarded conduit or other piece of scrap. And, on the other hand, preferring not to accidentally destroy something she could use with a misplaced footfall. She bends to examine a tiny twist of copper wire, thin and filamentous enough that she may be able to use it to wind round the heart of the little swallowtail she's currently making. It's astonishing the kinds of things that people will throw out._

 _"I thought I'd find you here." Oviya turns in surprise._

 _"Kalpana? Why did you come back?"_

 _The young pilot chews on her lip. "Uh, well, for you." She laughs nervously. "I was gonna be more subtle about that but I guess I'm bad at subtle."_

 _"For me?" Oviya's not sure she understands. Her own heart is thumping fast as the wingbeats of the little nectar-sipping bird she finished this morning. Kalpana's been gone from Ghirapur for three years now, running races in other cities. Oviya wasn't sure if she'd see her again, although they've exchanged letters often._

 _Kalpana steps forward and gingerly takes her hand. "I've missed you a lot," she confesses. "I've got the chance of a lifetime right now–a five-year contract to pilot the_ Agni _in Ghirapur and the surrounding cities."_

 _"That's marvelous," Oviya says in bewilderment. "But what does that have to do with me?"_

 _"I don't want to do it alone." Kalpana's shoulders hunch inwards briefly, and then they straighten, chin going up, and she ducks her head slightly and kisses Oviya's lips. "I don't want to be writing you letters for five more years. I'd rather touch something other than dry paper at nights. Come with me?"_

 _The taste of her is sweet on Oviya's lips, cardamom and honey. "But my work," she whispers._

 _"I'd never ask you to give that up, but does it have to been done in Ghirapur?"_

 _No. It doesn't. Oviya has never thought of leaving, even briefly, but she's nineteen, she's never been out of the city, and a new sense of possibility is unfolding in her heart. Why not follow her childhood sweetheart? Who's to stop her?_

 _She nods, and Kalpana's lips crash against hers again, her hands falling to the other woman's waist. Oviya moans softly, and she's being pressed backwards. She barely retains the presence of mind to slip the little coil of copper wire into the back pouch of her sash before she feels solid, cool metal behind her. She's pushed up against the side of a defunct fleetwheel cruiser on a scrapheap, kissing the life out of her best friend, and she's not quite sure how she got here._

 _She nips at the side of Kalpana's mouth, kisses down the vulnerable hollow of her jaw and then along her collarbone. Kalpana's head falls back, and her hands clutch at Oviya's back, tracing downwards and along her hips, and finally one of them ends just between her legs. Oviya's eyes flutter shut at the sudden burst of tingling warmth she feels in the wake of those gentle fingers, but they pass and move up to loosen the sash around her waist._

 _She's pulling at the simple wrap Kalpana chose to wear, and it's almost surprisingly easy to free Kalpana's breasts from inside. Kalpana gasps and shivers as a mischievous breeze chooses that moment to twist around them both, and then Oviya's mouth closes around Kalpana's nipple, her tongue tweaking at it gently, and Kalpana is moaning, hands scrabbling at Oviya's sash, and it finally comes loose._

 _Oviya's skirt unwraps, the front falling open, and she tugs at Kalpana's wrap in turn, not bother to undo the sash, just pulling the wrap aside so that she can slide her fingers down between Kalpana's legs._

 _She's gentle at first, fingers barely brushing against Kalpana's nub, but Kalpana's hips rise to meet Oviya's fingers, and then Kalpana's fingers are seeking Oviya as well. Oviya moans around Kalpana's breast, and the two of them are moving clumsily together, gasping and shuddering. Everything is warmth and sweat. Their legs almost entwine as they try to press closer together, and Oviya's hand replaces her mouth on Kalpana's breast, as her mouth moves to bite at the junction of Kalpana's shoulder._

 _The heat between her legs pulls her onwards, and she's grinding against Kalpana's hand and thigh, breath shuddering into her lungs. Desperately, she kisses Kalpana's mouth, her hips jerking up and down, warmth rising and rising, the muscles in her abdomen tensing–Kalpana is moaning against her, murmuring Oviya's name over and over again, and the heat rises like a wave and crashes over her._

"Mrs. Pashiri?" Oviya blinks back to the present with a slight gasp.

"Yes," she says distractedly. "Yes, of course, dear." She hides her smile. Nissa has looked away, and now Chandra is very obviously staring at the elf's breasts. These two may need a push. Oviya makes a note to herself to see what she can do.


End file.
